


(Discontinued) Generator Remix

by Bambeptin



Category: Generator Rex
Genre: Gen, Mostly Gen, once in a while there will be trash, warnings in each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bambeptin/pseuds/Bambeptin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>1// Generator Knight - Obligations, Obligations (1/2): Rex wants to be normal, Holiday's searching for a cure, Six wants a promotion, and Knight is shaped dubiously like a friend. Half of Promises, Promises, if their roles were swapped.</i><br/><i>2// Generator Knight - Obligations, Obligations (2/2):  Providence has the cure <i>under control</i>. He's kind of a jerk. The second half of Promises, Promises, if their roles were swapped.</i><br/><i>3// Negative Six - DILIGENCE (1/2): A quick mission to hunt down two EVOs goes horribly wrong for Six. Or horribly right, depending on your perspective. EVO!Six</i><br/><i>4// Unfinished+Scrapped EVO!White - White King: </i>Suit compromised<i>, the artificial female voice intoned, calm in the midst of chaos. </i></p><p>Rex felt a chill run down his back as he tiptoed around the EVO, slow steps to not catch its attention. Sweat rolled down his face. Wasn't it suit <i>integrity</i> compromised? Or was he mistaken? </p><p>  <i>Nanite breach detected.</i><br/><b> I've decided to discontinue this collection because the format wasn't working out for the types of fics in here. Everything's getting separate fics.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Generator Knight - Obligations, Obligations (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Generator Knight // Obligations, Obligations (1/2)**
> 
> **Summary:** Rex wants to be normal, Holiday's searching for a cure, Six wants a promotion, and Knight is shaped dubiously like a friend. Half of Promises, Promises, if their roles were swapped.  
>  **Verse:**  Roleswap, Rex to Knight, Six to Holiday. No good name for this other than Obligations-verse (to counter canon's Promises-verse)  
>  **Ships:** None  
>  **Characters:**  Rex, Noah, Holiday, Six, Knight  
>  **Warnings:**  None? a kid gets non-graphically electrocuted and also Rex's life starts out shit as always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is more of an au with roleswap elements, since I don't stop at every single station on the canon train

Sneaking out of headquarters was easy.

 _Strangely_ easy. It was as if all the agents were looking away, or blocking Holiday's or Six's view to him. It wasn't as if he stuck out like a sore thumb, white colour palette and all, but a glorified spacesuit was at least noticeable. The boots clunked on the tiles, the joints sometimes rustled, and sometimes Rex let out a panic yelp if he accidentally bumped into someone.

So when he stood in a forest next to a skatepark and a basketball court, miles away from Providence, he was expecting someone to jump out and send him straight back to HQ.

Nothing.

Rex grinned.  _Finally_.

There were some people (just kids, like he should be, not agents or scientists or EVOs) around the vending machines near a building and he could feel excitement bubbling up inside him. Normally nobody was at the skatepark, and this was usually as far as he ran before he's caught.

"Hey!" he waved, and all of them turned with varying expressions of astonishment on their faces, "Let me try something…"

He strolled up to the vending machine, tapped some buttons on his gauntlet, and raised it right above the display.

Cans rolled out of the opening.

"That's pretty cool, man," one of the skaters, with an orange vest and a green t-shirt, said, "Pretty cool for a robot  _freak_."

The four skaters waltzed off, cans in tow.

_Well._

_For the first new interaction I've had in months, that could have gone better._

"Don't listen to those guys, they're jerks," another kid around his age comes up to him, hand outstretched, "I'm Noah."

"Rex," he pays special attention to not immediately crush Noah's hand in his grip when he meets it.

"So. Since soda's a bust," Noah tapped the vending machine, eliciting empty rattles, "Wanna play basketball?"

* * *

"You're holding it like a dodgeball."

"It's basketball! I've seen the ani -  _real life games_ , it can't be  _that_ difficult."

The ball's whipped towards the basketball net at a frightening speed, spinning and cutting through the air like butter, until it hits.

The hoop bends, buckles, and snaps off completely.

"That's," Noah's at a loss for words, and he points numbly towards the now net-less basketball net, "That's new."

"Oh. Uh. Providence probably has that covered?" Rex's smile is anxious; this wasn't exactly the  _best_ first impression, "We can play with the other net on the other side of the court!"

The rest of the net flops over.

"Let's not chance that."

* * *

"I just want to be normal. Like you!" Rex motions towards Noah's body, and he catches a glimmer of doubt before Noah's smiling and listening intently again, "You're the epitome of a normal guy."

"And you're not because….?"

Rex gives him an exasperated look, and pats his exosuit. "I've got to keep this on because I'm absolutely 100% nanite-free. Two years ago, they ran some tests on possible ways of curing things, and bleaching was one of the proposed methods."

"And let me guess," Noah tilts his head, unperturbed by the strangeness of his explanation, "You were the volunteer, and that's why you're pasty white."

"Yup, they needed a human to test on after animals and plants made it relatively okay, and there I was — eleven years old, eager to help. Now I  _run_ ," he put little air-quotes around run to emphasize his point, "Providence."

"As in, world EVO defence organization Providence? Huge recruitment billboard right outside my school Providence?"

"One and only. Sorry about the billboard thing, I can't control that," he sighed, "I don't really  _control_ anything. I'm just a figurehead."

"So you're a pawn. A," a corner of Noah's mouth quirks upwards while his eyes dart up and down Rex's exosuit, "White Pawn?"

"I can't  _believe_ you made me listen to that with my own two ears," even though Noah's voice is muffled through the suit, even though he can't feel the concrete under his skin or the warmth of the sun, he feels like a normal kid.

"Rex, what are you  _doing_? Who is that?"

Until reality hits him like a subway train.

Noah almost slips down the halfpipe as he whips his head around, but Rex just huffs and rolls his eyes. He could recognize that  _perfect_ blend of worried, pissed, and exasperated from  _anywhere_.

He could've  _sworn_ he removed all the tracking devices from the suit.

"Just hanging out with Noah," Rex shrugs, "New friend? Doesn't appreciate interruptions?"

The click of combat boots against concrete.

"You  _know_ her? She's got a great Darth Vader impression, um," even though the visor is foggy and the viewport tinted blue, Rex can see the faint sheen of sweat building on Noah. He forgot how intimidating Agent Holiday could be, "She's pointing her taser thing at me,  _Rex_ —"

"That's just Holiday. She's like," Rex trailed off as he attempted to find the proper words. Ninja Nanny? Holiday could sneak up on people, but anime usually had katana or kunai wielding ninjas, not  _taser_ ninjas, "my Chernobyl Caretaker."

"A gas mask isn't going to protect me from gamma ray radiation —  _what_ has Six been teaching you?!"

"Stealth, subterfuge, the usual.  _Relax_ , I've got science covered," he turned around to instill some assurance into his caretaker. That, or to lighten the mood so his new friend didn't die of a stress-induced heart attack, "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Everything I needed to know."

Holiday's eyes narrowed, and Rex guessed that her mouth pursed — it was difficult to tell with a gas mask blocking the way, but he could recognize the way her cheeks would puff out  _just so_  when news of Rex breaking out reached her. It was usually followed by a stern, yet motherly speech about making commitments for Providence.

Rex could tune her out. Noah probably couldn't. He didn't want his budding friendship to be ruined on the first day  _again_.

Holiday stopped tapping her foot. The sounds of her breathing overrode the rustle of leaves, the drone of traffic in the distant city, even the mechanical whirring of his own exosuit.

 _Here we go_.

"Captain Calan's holding up Providence's resources to assemble a search team. Again. Six isn't appreciating that," Holiday's expression turned amused, "You should have seen the  _look_ on Six's face when Calan said he couldn't deliver the EVO carcass. And the look on Calan's face when one of Six's scalpels sped past his face and embedded itself into the monitor right behind him."

"And you're here to pick me up,  _again_. I'm fine! I've been fine for the past, what, twenty times?" he could remember his 'training' clearly. Be unemotional. Be a figurehead. Do what the people  _really_ running Providence  _want_ you to do, it's your  _obligation_ to help the war against EVOs, "And I'd rather go outside and have fun than watch Calan get another scar."

He was a teen — alright,  _pre-teen_  — and being the Providence Pawn didn't magically change that. He wanted a life outside of the  _war_. He  _needed_ a life outside of the war.

The experience of failing a test for the first time. Staying up all night to finish three projects at once. Cramming to frantically pass a test. Joking around with a study group while they definitely didn't study.

It was all replaced with a synthetic teacher and the expectation that he didn't want to switch jobs. Thirteen and already the leader of a world-spanning organization? What  _luck_!

Holiday gave her best 'I understand, but I'm your mother figure and I know what's best for you' look. With the head tilt and all.

"Some of us have to make sacrifices, Rex."

"Some more than others, apparently."

The sun had almost slipped down the horizon, turning the vivid oranges lining the sky into blues and purples. It was odd seeing the infrequent flashes of airplane lights instead of the blanket of stars that were visible back at headquarters; the sky was muted, the sounds were muted, and he could feel his own anger slowly dying out.

Reinfection was always an option, but where would he go after that? His new home and family was Providence. Rafael, Violeta, Caesar, he could only remember them through the vague, spotty memories of his childhood and newspaper clippings. Brief glimmers of running down a hallway, of someone shouting his name beneath the sounds of machines, of people he  _should_ be mourning but  _couldn't_.

_Waking up and stumbling across a ruined landscape with a blood-red sky over him. Everything was wrong — last week that clothes store was still standing, yesterday he and his dad went to eat at that restaurant (or was it that pile of stone? The sign was split between them), and the previous month the kind old owner of the toy shop gave him something that wasn't splintered wood. Now there was rubble, plant life, and monsters._

_So many monsters._

_Green isn't the first colour that comes to mind when he thinks of an angel, but there one is. Fighting a nightmare with a katana. He thinks back to the anime he's watched while waiting for his family to finish their project, and wonders wildly if any of the DVDs made it. Acid almost hits him, almost hits both of them, but he can feel an arm looping around his waist and they were running._

Noah's the first to break the silence. "I should probably go now, shouldn't I," he states it like an obvious fact, something that he should have done much earlier. Rex would've liked it if Noah didn't see the extra baggage that came along with being his friend, but it wasn't as if he could turn back time.

He just hoped his one shot at feeling normal didn't slip away.

"You don't  _have_ to, it's fine, everything's —" from the corner of his eye, Rex can see Holiday giving him the  _nastiest_ glare he's ever witnessed, real or fictional, "Yeah, you should."

* * *

"You know, I made a new friend today," simple, succinct, under ten words. That meant there was an  _okay_ chance Six would reply.

And yet, nothing.

Six presses a button and stands back, and Rex is lowered into the large scanner. There's a small window installed in case something went horribly wrong inside or outside but Rex doesn't want to look up; not at Six's stoic face, not at the other scientists staring at him and talking about him.

"His name's Noah. He's around my age, and likes basketball," Rex continues, even though he knows Six isn't listening to all of it; it feels good to vent, and somehow it feels even better when he's venting at a person and not an electronic journal, "I tried playing basketball and I ended up breaking the hoop."

"Turn down the strength setting next time. We're the ones paying for it."

"It was my first time playing!" Rex wants to throw his hands up in the air, but the scanner's too confined and he has to stay still, anyways, "I needed all the help I could get."

"Crush the ball next time and tell me how many points that nets you."

"Is that a pun?" Rex narrows his eyes and finally tilts his head up, and unless the stress finally got to him, he could see a hint of amusement on Six.

The scan line passed over his eyes and he blinked, and afterwards Six was back to his usual self. No answer.

A few taps on the screen later, and Six gives a thumbs-up. Or what Rex assumed was  _suppose_ to be a thumbs up — Six lifted his arm up halfway, hesitated, flashed a thumb, and put his hand back down.

"You're still nanite-free," Six's sunglasses are pointed downwards at the screen, but Rex is pretty sure Six saw him roll his eyes, "Close your eyes or tint the visor."

"Dude, I know the procedure," Rex prefers closing his eyes; there's nothing new to see after the first time and tinting the visor is an extra step.

"Can't be too careful."

The buzz was unbearable the first time around, and uncomfortable the next few times — Rex has lost count how many times the exosuit needed to be cleaned of residual nanites. It's a normal part of his routine now, no more odd than random mutations in nanite-infected DNA or disliking milk.

Though his eyelids are closed, he can tell the lights are getting brighter and brighter. There's a tugging sensation across his entire body, but he tenses his muscles and wills the exosuit up.

The first few seconds are always the hardest.

It's been two years since the incident, and one year since he started regularly sneaking out, but he still expects the shouting and the chaos and the burn across his being and the knowledge that he's being  _ripped apart_  —

The pulling lessens as fewer nanites remain on him.

The lights die down, and Rex opens his eyes as instructed. The door behind him automatically opens up, 'welcoming' him into a stark white room — maybe he could smuggle in furniture next time.  _Bright orange_ , he thinks, and smiles at the thought of hiding bits of a table inside the food container and the look on Holiday's face when she'll notice there was inexplicably something new in his room,  _Or bright blue. Maybe both._

"They're planning to repurpose the bleaching procedure soon."

"Um, alright," Rex didn't even take one step into his room before Six —  _Six, of all people_  — started up a conversation. Six pushes his glasses upwards in a gesture Rex inwardly describes as 'totally anime'.

"Instead of irreparably damaging the DNA, it's going to be removed along with the nanites."

It takes a moment for Rex to parse what he said, and a moment more for Rex to get over his shock. "What, like," he struggles to find a word and his mouth quirks up in a nervous, please-tell-me-you're-joking smile, "To  _vaporise_ EVOs?"

"We can't cure them. We can't contain a lot of them," his sunglasses blocked the way, but Rex felt like Six couldn't meet his disbelieving gaze, "We may as well kill. That's what the board said."

"What? But —" they weren't just nightmare horrors beamed from beyond the abyss, they were parents, siblings,  _children_ , humans that wouldn't get to live the rest of their lives. Like him, "There are  _people_ in there! Human beings!"

"Are we going to cage the whole world?"

Six's posture is stiff, and if his mouth wasn't moving to talk Rex could've sworn he was talking to a still image. Standing up, hands in pockets, completely neutral expression — classic Six.

He didn't look the slightest bit disturbed.

"I can't  _believe_ you guys," anger's laced in every word, and his hands are balled up in fists — if he was out of the exosuit, his nails would've dug deep grooves into his skin.

"It's been three years, Rex. If they — we don't find a breakthrough soon, the governments of the world are going to pull funding. They won't waste any more money on empty promises."

"Providence was founded to clean up this mess and we're just going to shove it all under the metaphorical bed. How long until I'm the last person on Earth and every else has been zapped?"

"While the efforts of Rhodes, Volkov, and Bouvier are  _admirable_ , it isn't enough to push back against the growing EVO threat," from the small window, Rex can see that the three scientists aren't present — probably working on their program up in the space station again.

He looks to the scientist in front of him.

"And  _you've_ been such a  _great_ help."

" _I'm_  in charge of the Petting Zoo. Nanites should be left to the people suited for the job," another question, another blunt answer.

_Maybe that's what Six does in his room all day — argue against various versions of me._

"If by 'in charge of the Petting Zoo' you mean 'best EVO wrestler in Providence' then yeah. Hit the nail right on the head."

Six's brows tilted downwards and his lips thinned. For once, Rex was glad Six wore the sunglasses all the time — he had a sneaking suspicion that Six's uncovered glare could literally kill. As in, actual knives would shoot out and strike him down.

He won't back down, though. "What? They aren't even betting on whether you'll win or lose, they're betting on how long the EVO'll last — Bobo's made a  _fortune_."

"That robot's a bad influence," each word was forced out as Six focused on smoothing himself out to the detached air he had before. It was subtle, but Rex had enough boredom and time to look for tics — it was  _something_ to do in that room other than watch the news.

There was nothing but bleakness on TV, anyways.  _Diane Farrah, reporting that this city and that city has been lost despite Providence's best efforts_  —  _Diane Farrah, here on site of the latest giant EVO attack_  —  _there's a record number of Class 1 EVOs appearing this week_  —  _Sentient EVO hate groups are growing in numbers, especially in Hong Kong_  —  _Ships are disappearing in the Pacific, rumoured to be sea monster EVOs._

"He's the only influence I  _have_ , Six," other than various anime characters, but Rex had a sneaking suspicion they didn't count.

"You also don't contact anyone on comms. Make this easier on all of us and stop sneaking out, alright?"

"Pssh. Alright."

* * *

"I can't believe you sneaked out! Again! Especially after," Noah cupped his mouth with his hand and breathed loudly, " _That._ "

"Holiday? I'm use to it. It's Six you have to look out for," Rex grins as Noah leans forward, eager to learn about the other's life, "Did you know he keeps a knife in his jacket pocket at all time?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I was watching the surveillance cams and he just," he made the motion of grabbing something near his waist and pulling a sheathe off, "Took out this dagger, from the inside of his jacket. Then he stared at it for a few minutes when nobody was looking."

"I don't know what's creepier," Noah said, a devious smile making its way onto his face, "The knife, or the fact that you were watching the surveillance feed."

"Well, I've gotta do  _something_ to keep myself entertained."

" _Gross._ "

"Not like that!"

Rex lightly punches him on the shoulder — strength turned  _way_ down. He's learned his lesson from the first time he tried to do that. With Calan. Hutton had to fill in after Calan was put into the hospital ward and Rex had to get another lesson on suit safety.

They sit in silence, enjoying the peaceful scene. There wasn't anyone else in the skatepark that they could see or hear — just the ambient noises of nature and the city blended together.

Noah took another sip from his soda, and Rex stuck another open soda can into what was lovingly referred to as the 'food compartment' near his chest to get the nanites removed. The feeding tube was slightly awkward, but Noah hadn't said anything  _yet_ , so he supposed it was okay.

"We just have juice, milk, and water in Providence," Rex says between sips. Some of the citrus soda spilled over his chin and he resisted the urge to bring up his arm to wipe it — what good would that do? He had nanites and a faceplate in between his hand and his face. Noah nods and motions for him to continue, "Going outside, experiencing unhealthy drinks, what a miracle."

"An act of divine providence, even?"

" _Noah!_ "

Both of them laugh, and continue enjoying the tranquil moment. Despite the clutter, the graffiti, the horns blaring in the distant, this was somehow more homely than the organized rooms of Providence headquarters.

"Milk doesn't sound half bad," Noah speaks up, seemingly after intense thought.

"Okay. Juice, I can get. Water, I can respect," Rex copies Holiday's concerned, motherly expression, "But milk? Out of all of them, milk?"

"What? It tastes good!"

"Unbelievable. It wasn't even originally on the menu! Six was the one petitioning to add milk, and he's lactose intolerant!"

That wasn't an exaggeration — the one health risk in Six's sparse file (it didn't even have his birthday on it, how else was Rex going to birthday prank him?) was that he was lactose intolerant. That was it. Complete confusion on Rex, and now complete confusion on Noah — they didn't serve lactose intolerant milk at the cafeteria yet.

"What if you mixed the milk and juice together? Like, with orange juice? Or lemonade? Would that make it taste better?"

"Oh my god."

"I think yes."

"Remind me to take you to Providence so I can prove you  _wrong_."

He can feel his worries, his stress, melt away as they're cracking up. They're on top of the world (or at least the skatepark) and it feels as though nothing's wrong — the clouds are distant, the sun's shining, and someone's fixed the basketball hoop already.

Noah tips the last of his soda into his mouth, and wipes it with his sleeve.

"I'll go do the government fund thing to the vending machine, I got this," Rex hauls himself up, cutting off the flow of soda into the tube, and stretches a bit before heading off.

"Sure," a buzz comes from Noah's pocket, and his gaze flits downwards as he checks the notification. There's rapid movement in Rex's peripheral vision, and Noah's hand slapped onto his shoulderpad, "Wait! I wouldn't want to, uh, take money away from the war on EVOs, right? Besides, I have to leave now. I got a message from my mom,  _really_ strict about curfew."

"It's like, 6 o'clock."

"You don't know the shady Bellwood types!"

 _He's nervous_ , fidgeting with his fingers, can't meet Rex's gaze, sweating much more than a small six feet sprint would suggest,  _Why's he nervous?_

_C'mon Rex, he's your new friend! You can't go around demanding that people tell every aspect of their lives._

"Alright? I'll just," Rex attempts to hide his suspicion, so he awkwardly smiles and walks back to his previous location, "Sit back down, then, and wait for a jet to pick me up."

Rex boosts up the volume receptors in his helmet (he couldn't resist, it was morally questionable but he  _had to know_ ), wincing at the onslaught of sound. Maybe the car horns honking weren't as quiet as he thought.

Steps. Paper shuffling. Someone who definitely  _wasn't_ Noah, but somewhat familiar, mumbling. Too low for Holiday. Too gruff for Six. Not western enough for Calan. Faster footsteps moving away.

Slower, heavier footsteps moving towards him.

"So. You're the hotshot who's nanite-free, huh?"

Rex whirled around; the blond man in front of him looked innocent enough, other than the fact he looked like he came straight out of a gym instruction video — muscular, tall, a white tank top with cargo shorts.

His expression would have fit well with Six's expression — indifferent, but somehow slightly angry at the same time.

"Yeah," Rex nods, and looks around for Noah; he's out of his sight, and Rex hopes he wasn't tied up in the back of a van somewhere, "That's me."

"I've heard a  _lot_ about you."

"I'm sure you have. Providence is a  _pretty_ big organization, after all. We're looking to expand to the moon later on, gotta keep an eye on those aliens," if he kept joking, he wouldn't remember the fear — there was something about the man in front of him that screamed  _danger_ , just like Six when fighting.

_Less than a minute into meeting someone and they're already threatening you?_

Rex stood his ground, turning up the strength to his suit; a mixture of his own pride, the knowledge of his exosuit's capability, and the halfpipe beginning right behind him keeping him there. He could probably make a run for it if he broke the other's arm in a surprise attack.

"And if you know me, you know my status as the leader of Providence! I've got a lot of people watching my back, like, my," Rex's eyes light up and he snaps his fingers, "Assassin Au Pair! That's the phrase I'm looking for!"

There a small, confused pause before he reverts back to his irritated air. "Noted."

"Alright! I'm Rex Salazar! Head of Providence, no nanites, but you already know that," Rex shrugs and plans his trajectory — he'll stand out in the forest, but in Bellwood  _someone's_ bound to notice a scuffle, "What's your name?"

"Knight."

"No first name? Or last name, if that's your nickname?"

"Only one I remember. It's  _mine_ ," the m —  _Knight_ says, with the strong sense of control only seen in people defending their only possession. A hazy look of uncertainty passes his face —

Rex runs.

His boots are boosting every step, sending him sprinting in speeds even unknown by him —

And now he's tripping at speeds now known by him —

 _I couldn't have tripped, I'm still on concrete, I'm not_ that  _bad,_  he thinks as scratches appear on his faceplate as he slides forwards; no cracks yet, thankfully, but enough for warning signs to appear. There's a pull on his legs and he finds he can't open them, like they're bound together. He's sliding  _backwards_ now, strangely.

He looks to his feet.

_Oh._

There's grey rope tied around it, with a huge mechanical claw on one end. It's taut, and despite Rex kicking, they don't budge.

_Where'd he hide that?_

And on the other end of the rope was a boxy mechanical fist that melded with Knight's skin. There was an opening on the top of one with electricity crackling around it.

" _Thrill_  me."

His expression was  _sadistic_ , mouth twisted into a wide, smug grin and eyes watching Rex as if he was a predator watching his prey. Scratch that, not just  _watching_ , but  _playing_ with their prey before their teeth would snap down and swallow the prey whole.

"Out of all the one-liners, 'thrill me'?! I could  _probably_ come up with something better in way less time. At least  _open up_  with 'thrill me'!"

The content look never slipped off his face and he started whistling while reeling Rex in. Glass against concrete, metal against metal, screeching noises filled the air but he wouldn't. Stop.  _Whistling_.

One of the boxy mechanical fists —  _smack hands? Better than calling them 'boxy mechanical fists' all day_  — shot out a projectile with a cable fastened, lodged itself onto Rex's exosuit. The projectile didn't pierce it, but the blunt force would probably leave a bruise that he would have to take care of  _himself_ in his room, and his confusion and shock slowly morphed into rage as he realized —

_Paperwork! Six and Holiday nagging! More suit safety training! Nobody's going to let me out of headquarters for months!_

He flips himself over and aims his gauntlet towards Knight, laser charging up —

Electricity courses through his suit and Rex  _screams_.

His suit's power is falling, he can hear the whistling stop, only to be replaced by jovial  _laughter_ , there's screaming and he recognizes one voice as his own but someone  _else,_ faint, calling his name —

"I'm going to  _enjoy_ smashing your faceplate in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knight's builds look like his mechsuit that appeared in Plague, I hope that was clear. also Calan got his scar early because why not
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> (the rest of the snippets from expiration date are probably going to make it here ewe)


	2. Generator Knight - Obligations, Obligations (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Generator Knight // Obligations, Obligations (2/2)**
> 
> **Summary:** Providence has the cure _under control_. He's kind of a jerk.   
>  **Ships:** None  
>  **Verse:** Generator Knight (AU with roleswap elements)  
>  **Characters:** Rex, Holiday, Six, Knight  
>  **Warnings:** Some blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this concludes the first two chapters of Obligations! Next few are probably going to be something different. who likes rocks.
> 
> everyone started off the same as canon (Six was a mercenary being trained by One, Rebecca Holiday was getting her PHDs, Rex was at the Nanite Research Facility, and Knight was...you know, whatever he was doing), but a few events changed them early on (Six joined Providence a little too early, Holiday's hasn't been revealed, Rex never got injured so he never got the first nanite batch + he volunteered to be bleached out of a sense of duty to fix what his family did, and Knight's hasn't been revealed but has been hinted at)

 

Consciousness crashes down on him with the force of a feral EVO; quick, brutal, headache-inducing. Rex regrets lowering the tint on the visor to see the sky better — the bright walls and lights pierce his skull and blur his surroundings. A twitch in his index finger later, the room turns from a white, shaky blob to something _bearable_ to look at.

He's lying down on a bed in a corner of the lab. Not that it helped much, his suit had enough cushioning by itself.

The exosuit's power readings are low, but nothing too dire. Nanite shielding integrity was still at 100%. All systems functional. The digital clock being turned off to conserve energy was a bit of a bummer; it was difficult to tell the time deep in the bowels of headquarters.

Dazed, he stares at the ceiling of the lab. He was just at the skatepark, wasn't he? With Noah. Who left, and he was waiting when someone walked up to him —

The pistons react to his will and he snaps up, eyes wide and hands shaking.

_Knight._

His heart's hammering against his chest, there's beads of sweat rolling down his face. His back's lit up with pain from the sudden movement, but all he can think about is the laughter and the screaming and growing prickle of electricity dancing across him —

"Are you alright?"

Rex swallows, and breathes in deeply. His heart's beating in overdrive and his mouth feels dry. No, _absolutely_ not.

"What happened?" he doesn't want to admit he's scared, he doesn't want to think about the events that occurred yesterday (or a few hours ago? Two days ago? The temptation to flick open the digital clock just for a second is tangible) but curiosity gets the better of him.

"Holiday interrupted a poor assassination attempt," Six is organizing something in a drawer, facing away from Rex — taking out a few bottles, examining them, and putting them back down. There's nobody else in the lab but them, and the Petting Zoo's dark. Nighttime or a power failure. Rex decided it was the former.

"I probably could've guessed," Rex replies, trying to keep his voice from wavering too much. It's not the answer he's looking for, and he doesn't like the implication that he's too weak, but it's _technically_ correct, "The specifics?"

"She wants to talk to you first."

Rex huffs. Typical. Maybe he should assign mandatory reports to her.

"Here," Six throws something towards him, and Rex catches it without really thinking, "Antibiotic ointment and some dressings. Just follow the instructions. You should probably lie back down now."

 _Does cream really need instructions?_ Rex keeps the thought to himself, instead focusing on the sting on his back and the ache on his shoulder as he lowered himself; he trusted Six to tell him if he had any major injuries, so he supposed he got off easy.

"Did they catch Knight?"

The change in the mood was swift as Six jerked upwards and tensed. One of the bottles fell from his grip as his hand moves towards one side of his jacket, but he stops himself.

"...Knight?"

It's the side of his jacket with the dagger.

"Yeah, the person who, you know, tried to _kill_ me. Didn't Holiday mention him?"

"She wasn't in the mood to talk," Six's sunglasses are pointed at him, scrutinizing him. His hand clenches and he wrests it away to shove it in his pants pocket, "Didn't catch his name before she knocked him unconscious. Are you sure?"

"I mean, I don't know if it's his first, last, or nickname," Rex shrugged and made note of Six's jilted movements — this was the most emotion he's seen on Six in months, "But that's what he introduced himself as."

Hesitation. A rarity from Six; he usually moved with a purpose, as if he was reading lines from a script and playing his part on a stage.

"He," Six starts, and pauses as if looking for a direction, "Probably needs medical attention, right?"

Rex turns his head to face Six and stares. "Uh, sure?" that certainly wasn't a question he was expecting from him, "Though he's probably got EVO super-healing or whatever. Remember the one time with the frog?"

"The one that woke up mid-dissection and kicked Dr. Fell in the face. Yes," his voice sounded hollow as he wandered around the lab, picking up miscellaneous items — a bottle of painkillers, some white bandages, more antibiotic ointment. Notably, one item was a glass of milk that another scientist had probably forgotten about, held firmly in his right grip while his left arm held everything else.

"Oh! Speaking of him, Knight was biomechanical!" there's only been one other biomechanical EVO, and that one disappeared in thin air before any agents could stop its rampage, "Dr. Fell would have a…field...day…"

They've dissected human-like, sentient EVOs before ( _He couldn't watch. He couldn't even read the report. Holiday was similarly shaken up, and Six was a bit snappier that week — his higher-ups, the people truly running Providence, repeated to him that they were dead, they were dead when Providence found them, but Rex heard them shouting for help and sometimes he still heard them late at night_ ) but Knight looked _strikingly_ like a normal human when he didn't have metal fists out.

Six started walking out faster. Rex pushes himself up to follow, but Six abruptly stopped and turned to him. "Stay here. You need some rest."

_Oh. I'm not going anywhere._

* * *

The laser turns on, and it cuts a circle in the glass like a hot knife through butter. He's careful to pull the glass away towards the lab, as opposed to chucking it outside to the Petting Zoo — Six would notice. Six would always notice. From his vantage point, he can see Six stride towards the cages right underneath the observatory; it was eerily quiet, no crocodile EVOs growling or bird EVOs squawking.

It works to Rex's advantage. His sound receptors are turned up, until he can clearly hear Six's steps through the undergrowth and the clattering of plastic against plastic.

The footsteps stop, and he's standing right before a medium-sized cage moved away from the rest. Six kneels down to look inside.

A sharp exhale.

That was definitely Knight's cage.

"Knight —" it seems like the words are caught in Six's throat, and he instead thrusts out the glass of milk, "Here."

A hand reaches out from the bars and hovers over the glass, and Rex can imagine Knight's face reflecting his own confusion.

"This isn't drugged, right?"

"No."

"Nanites'll probably break them down anyways. It's useless."

"I know."

Shuffling inside the cage before an empty glass is presented. _How fast can a guy drink milk?_

Six grabs the glass, his gaze still fixated on what Rex assumed was Knight.

"So, I assume you're Dr. Fell, then?"

The glass shattered in Six's hands — _did he just crush it? What were they_ made _of?_ — and he's standing up all of a sudden, pose rigid. It doesn't even look like he's noticed the blood on his hand, the scars on his fingers, the glass shards embedded in his palm — he's looking down at the cage, completely absorbed in his own thoughts.

Rex was glad Knight was apparently as jumpy as he was — Knight's yell of surprise masked his own yelp.

He's also glad that he was winded, because in one fluid motion Six brandishes the dagger right at the cage, unsheathed and gleaming.

There's movement in the cage that Rex assumes is Knight frantically pushing himself backwards.

"Do you remember this?"

There's a gap between Six's question, asked with an unwavering voice despite the knife shaking in his hands, and Knight's answer. Rex didn't blame him; that was unexpected, even for the enigmatic Six.

"That's —" Knight swallows thickly, "That's a tantō, right?"

"With the bushido symbol of loyalty engraved on the hilt," the tantō's lowered, but he's still shaking, "Whether for good or ill, our fates will follow the same path."

"Our?"

"You gave this to me," Six's indifferent expression is strained, bordering on a scowl or a hysterical smile, "Right before you _left_. It's been _four years_ , Knight, where the _hell_ have you been?!"

The last few words were roared out, and a flock of bird-bat things shoot out from a tree, screeching. The audio receptors similarly screeched and his ears rang as they approached overload, more and more noises being added on as the residents of the Petting Zoo stirred.

"We're suppose to be _partners_ ," it's quiet, with raw emotion leaking from the cracks; Rex is vaguely surprised he can even hear it at all, mixed in with the cacophony of EVOs and the indistinct shouting of newly awoken agents.

A rhinoceros EVO barrels into the clearing, ripping apart the cage, and whatever answer was planned falls silent.

* * *

The blood drew them there.

Six was shouting for him to move, but Knight's staring down a huge horn inches away from his chest — _A bit more and it would have pierced me_ , he thinks, as the horn's wiggled backwards and out of the cage, _What an unsatisfactory way to die._

He looks around, at the artificial nature enclosed by the white walls in a false sense of order.

 _What an unsatisfactory_ place _to die._

It's Six that pulls him out of his stupor, along with pulling him out of his cage — the dirt's soft beneath his shoes and the air's somehow _fresher_ not being caged in. High above, the windows to Providence's hallways lit up, bright white LEDs interspaced with the red flashes from alarms.

It was chaos and he hated it.

"We have to move. More are coming," Six's stoic expression returned to his face, no sign of his weakness from before. Knight nods and follows along, at a loss on what else to do. Six's steps are light and quick, contrasting against his own lumbering, heavy steps —

_Six could've just abandoned me. He's fine on his own._

"I'm unsure of how the rhino EVO breached the wall between the cages and the Zoo proper, but," Six ducks under a branch that hits Knight square in the face; he doesn't mind, small scratches healed quickly, "We're heading in the opposite direction. There should be an exit in front of us."

Whatever his _trick_ was, luring him in with the promise of his past, forgotten self, he was sticking to it. Knight had to give it to him, he was determined.

 _Or maybe_ , a part of him whispers, _He's telling the truth._

He's vaguely aware of his own steps cracking twigs, his own heavy breathing, all the noise originating from him.

He's more focused on the emu-like creature that's jumped out from the bushes and leapt, beak open, at Six's face, and how Six wasn't fast enough because he was _still holding on_ —

Six's hand holding his fell limp. Knight jerked forwards in an attempt to grab him, but him and the emu EVO rolled a few feet away.

"Let him go!" he spat out the words, enraged, and he sprung upwards, hand outstretched. He couldn't build his mechanical claws, and he wasn't sure why he was putting himself in the path of danger for someone he just met (he did give him milk though. Did he know his favourite food? Was it the truth? He didn't want to stay here) but it felt right.

His hand met the feathers of the bird, pushing it off of Six somewhat. What was he _doing_? He prided himself in having plans. This was not a good plan.

There was a strange sensation in his left hand, and he watched, bewildered, as white lines travelled from his palm up to his elbow and down onto the EVO.

White light bloomed from where his hand met feathers, and he squinted — Six didn't have a problem with his sunglasses. Maybe he could borrow them later.

The monstrous features melted, jagged features turning soft and eyes disappearing until two were left. The EVO became smaller, and smaller, and the legs were becoming _really_ short, until a normal chicken remained in its place.

"Did I do that?" Knight checked his left arm, if there were any features or eyes or extra EVO bits that happened to crawl up. Nothing. Not even the white lines. The realization hit him a second later — somehow, he _cured_ it.

They would make him cure _more_. Even the sentient, strong ones. _Especially_ the sentient, strong ones.

Six's mouth was agape.

Half of his face is smeared with crimson — Knight doesn't waste a second and slaps his hand on his forehead to try and staunch the flow. Six is leaning onto him, dazed; he's grasping at his back for something that isn't there, mumbling incoherently and wobbling.

"It's - it's a head injury," Six lurches forwards, and Knight loops around his waist to hold him up, "The cut bleeds a lot, but I don't have a concussion. It's probably fine."

Knight's other hand remains on his forehead anyway.

"How do you deal with it?" Knight's the one dragging Six along now, wishing that the damned collar would be removed so he could protect him better — the claws were bulky enough to act as a shield and a makeshift stretcher. Or he could build the boots and rocket off. Or rappel upwards using the cords on his shoulder build. Or pepper the non-sentient EVOs with gatling gunfire — instead he was stuck with sparse options, stuck in unknown territory with someone who claimed to know him from before, stuck in his weak, _weak_ , body.

"With what?"

"Being so fragile," it's frankly disgusting, seeing _filth_ running the world when some were evolved and _superior_ , "I don't know how you folk handle being on the brink of death all the time."

"You've called me a lot of things," there he was, reminiscing on times Knight would never remember. He wished Six would stop doing that, it made his chest feel odd, "Never fragile, though."

"Still doesn't answer my question," Knight states a bit more light-heartedly, and hobbles away from the sound of gunfire and roaring. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings when he was ferried in and now he was paying for the mistake — he couldn't tell where any of the exits were, or where the cages were located, or the direction of the EVO enclosure.

He decides being close to the wall is the next best thing, and places Six down. Six's expression doesn't change, but somehow it's apparent to Knight that he's lost in thought — or his memories. The blood's almost dry on his face and clothes, and it doesn't look like any more was spewing out, so Knight considered it a job well done.

"You've never called me fragile because you've never beaten me in a fight."

"I find that _somewhat_ hard to believe," Knight's focus is drawn towards the other's features. Certainly not as muscular as he was, but nothing to scoff at. The image is ruined by the various scrapes on his skin and clothes.

The gunfire was dying down, and the roars became more and more infrequent. Either the Providence goons were successful in pushing the EVOs back or the EVOs were content in their share of food.

Knight hoped it was the former.

"Battle's almost over," Six said, mirroring Knight's thoughts, "You should probably leave."

"Don't you _work_ for Providence?" Knight isn't about to give up a shot at freedom, but he's curious enough to ask.

"Trained as a mercenary. Old habits," there's a hint of a smile on Six's face, before it turns solemn, "I'll catch up later. Go."

Knight turned around, about to run, before realizing he had no idea where to go.

"Any tips?"

"Maintenance tunnel to the left. Don't remember the code. You'll figure something out."

* * *

Rex moped in his room. Since the alarm started ringing, he was ordered to remain in his room — no more spying, although things started to get a bit _intense_ at the end.

He never knew Six was capable of complex emotions like that!

A thought made him grin.

Everyone that normally worked at the lab was currently working in the Petting Zoo, cleaning up the carcasses and debris from the stampede.

Which left the office exit unguarded.

Meaning Rex could sneak out without being reprimanded.

He couldn't use the main hallways, agents were given instructions to report any sightings of him to Holiday and they couldn't just _refuse_ orders. The skatepark incident was still fresh in their minds, and they couldn't allow him to leave out of pity anymore; Providence was control, control was security.

Right outside of the lab, though, was a hidden door that led into the maintenance tunnels — claustrophobic, perhaps, but it was a small sacrifice for freedom.

Hopefully Noah would be waiting at the park. Rex owed him an apology for distrusting him; the curfew was _totally_ justified if Knight was any indication.

There's nobody in the hallway right outside of the lab, and Rex holds in a whoop of excitement before he dashes towards the entrance. The blueprints didn't lie; a combination of presses on the wall and it slid away, revealing the dark grey interior of Providence. Pipes travelled along the length of the walkway, with tiles that hid wires acting as walls. His boots clanged against the metal but there would be nobody to hear it — Rex double- and triple-checked the date, no maintenance was scheduled. The hallway's barely wide enough to fit Rex, and he wonders if the workers climb on the pipes to move around quicker; it would be a fun experiment, if he wasn't scared he'd fall on or crush an important pipe.

Now, if he remembered the blueprint correctly, the closest maintenance hatch that led to an exit was just a few turns away —

He bumps into something while turning left.

Rex looks upwards and backs up. That definitely wasn't a pipe.

Just his _luck_ that he'd run into Knight in the vast sprawl of the maintenance hallways.

"Aren't you suppose to be in a cage?"

"I could say the same thing to you."

They spend a few seconds in the same position, tense, staring at the other. Both of them don't know what to make of the situation — fight, or flee? The tension in the air was almost tangible as the two recalled their _first_ meeting. _Not that that could happen again,_ Rex smiles inwardly, _Unless he wants to be on the receiving end of a beatdown._

Knight moves first.

He's barrelling straight at Rex, and Rex couldn't feel any more confident — Knight was collared while his own exosuit was at full power, the hallway was narrow and Rex could get a good punch in, and _besides_ , any injury would be healed up by the other's nanites anyway. Holiday or Six couldn't get too angry if he very temporarily broke Knight's nose.

He puts himself in a fighting stance, feet apart and gauntlets up.

Knight's a few feet away now, arm raised and fist clenched.

Rex decided defending his stomach would be for the best; the armour was weaker there so he could bend, and one strong punch would knock the wind out of him.

Knight…wasn't in front of him anymore.

There's movement on the ground, and Rex snaps his head downwards to see Knight attempting to slide between his legs.

He almost bursts out laughing at Knight's shoulders being too wide to fit through before he realizes _oh yeah, those are_ my _feet he's knocking over_ , and he topples downwards as all of Knight's forward momentum is lost.

Rex felt something collide with his stomach and the wind's forced out of his lungs.

Knight felt armour crash onto his head, leaving him dazed and reeling from a headache.

Rex flailed his arms wildly until he got his balance back and pushed upwards, struggling to remember the command for communications. He's rarely opened it himself before, just receiving and ignoring calls that came in. Comms? Communications on? _Comm-on I really need to talk to Holiday right now please_?

After pressing the manual button inside his helmet with his tongue, the beep confirming his voice is being transmitted finally sounded.

"Rex to anyone listening in Providence, I've got Knight! He's escaped but, uh," he accidentally bumped into him while sneaking out himself? He dealt with him by accidentally falling on him? A little white lie wouldn't be _disastrous_ , "I saw him and chased him down in the maintenance passages, Sector 5-J, fifth layer."

* * *

"You did well, Rex," Holiday places a hand on Rex's shoulderpad, and he smiles sheepishly. The truth could wait. Knight was handcuffed to the bed to the opposite of him, scowling and giving him dark glares every once in awhile. He replied by sticking his tongue out.

"Just doing my job here at Providence," Rex preens, smugly grinning at Knight. Knight looks away.

Rex was sitting in the lab bed, waiting for Six to come around — apparently he was injured in the stampede by an EVO that had gone missing afterwards. Not as bad as other wounds, but enough for a checkup in the hospital wing.

"Although, I'm _very_ curious to hear how Knight got out in the first place," Holiday stands up straighter as her voice turns sterner, "The maintenance tunnels aren't exactly the very visible. It's almost if someone told you."

"Yes."

"Who was it?" Holiday snaps, and she glances towards the rest of the lab before quickly adding, "Six?"

"The building," Knight's answer was smooth, but Rex can catch the slight hesitation in his voice after Holiday mentioned Six, "I wanted to escape, and the computer gave me the blueprints."

"Technopathy?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

Holiday taps her cheek, thinking to herself.

Her eyes widen.

"The technopathy's not blocked by the collar. Or you could resist the shocks," Holiday starts, circling to where Knight is, "You could've escaped the cage any time you wanted to."

"A moot point, considering I had ten minutes of spare time before the rhinoceros EVO tore it open."

Rex winces — he doesn't like Knight, at _all_ , but when the EVO shredded through the metal he looked away.

The spray of blood and flesh, screams cut short, he never wanted to experience that again.

"And can you talk to nanites?"

It's a loaded question, Rex realizes; and Six's words echo in his mind.

_That jerk can't be the breakthrough we're looking for, right?_

"Can I deactivate nanites?" Knight licked his dry lips, eyes darting around the lab, "Yes."

Holiday stared at him. Rex stared at him. It was so casual, so flippant, " _Sure, yeah, you guys can't? This is special? Well, why didn't you say so?"_

He's expecting Knight to grin and reveal a cruel prank, giving them hope and yanking it away, but he doesn't.

The cure was _right in front of him_ , and he was _obnoxious_.

"We should start off by making sure Providence can track you," Holiday's stepping around the big point, probably saving it for a later meeting, "Headquarters is a big place."

"Tracking devices will be disassembled by my nanites," it's Knight's turn to smugly smile at Rex and Holiday, but the smile falls after he tries to shrug and his hand's pulled back down by the handcuff.

Holiday smiles back, and Rex can feel the air turn colder.

* * *

A cowbell.

Rex turns on the surveillance cameras, and sees a cowbell attached to Knight's collar.

Stark white to match with the rest of Providence, probably the most high-tech they could _make_ a bell, but it was a cowbell all the same. It rang whenever the new agent walked, sometimes even when he was shifting around, and Knight gave the most indignant glare towards anyone staring at him — even _Six_ had a medium-sized smile when he saw Knight walk in.

Soon after, he turns off the feed so he can laugh in private.

The news of a cure sparked a new hope in everybody; his higher-ups reported increased funding and more recruits in Basic. They even acknowledged Rex's budding initiative and leadership skills — first setting off the alarm and then catching Knight.

The Consortium were sometimes hard to deal with, but this was the start of a good future.


	3. Negative Six (1/2) - DILIGENCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Negative Six (1/2) // DILIGENCE**
> 
> **Summary:** A quick mission to hunt down two EVOs goes horribly wrong for Six. Or horribly right, depending on your perspective. EVO!Six  
>  **Verse:** Canon, except I literally forgot to add in Bobo so it's up in the air if he exists or not  
>  **Ships:** None  
>  **Characters:** Rex, Six, White Knight, Holiday, Calan  
>  **Warnings:** Blood, gore, amputation, body horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a FOOL, an ABSOLUTE COUNTRY BUMPKIN, _GENERATOR KNIGHT_
> 
> (You can kinda tell which parts I wrote today at 12am ha....haha.....)

It was the quietness blended with the pure creepiness of the town that made Rex's skin crawl.  
  
The stoplights turned and none of the cars moved, the sidewalks were empty save for paper fluttering in the wind, barks of dogs left behind being the only indication of life; the perfect setting for a horror game.  
  
He likened it to the world when the sleeping plague hit, if the world also happened to be Breach's pocket dimension — signs of being lived in, signs that everything once was normal, contrasting with the deep feeling in his gut that everything was _hugely_ wrong.  
  
It wasn't hard to see why — deep scars marred the otherwise plain town, concrete sunken in with rubble lining the border.  
  
The Keep floated above the buildings, removed from the world. On the Keep, it felt like a different dimension; a feeling similar to being at home (if home was a huge, flying battleship destined to go down in battle) that made everything happening around it seem unreal.  
  
As if it was a videogame. It was scarily easy to see people as numbers, cities as statistics, when everything was miles below them.  
  
Rex sat on the bridge, watching the countless grunts piloting the ship with Captain Calan acting as — well, the captain. Six stood near the entrance to the bridge, hands shoved in his pockets and expression neutral.  
  
A rather normal day, if a bit less action-packed.  
  
Rex looked up at the screen, desperate for a glance at the EVO responsible for the upturned cars, the shredded trees, the collapsed houses — maybe it was one that looked like an elephant, or a saber-toothed tiger. One that _really_ liked digging.  
  
The camera zoomed up into a section of a wooded park.  
  
And continued zooming.  
  
_Maybe it broke_ , Rex impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for the screen to stop zooming and actually show the EVO — usually a Rank 1 or 2 EVO would be highly visible. They were almost exclusively large, hulking beasts with extraordinary powers, rippling muscles on top of a mindless being.  
  
_Or maybe someone fell asleep on the job._  
  
This mission was the only one today that needed the Keep and Providence's _secret weapon_ , so Rex couldn't blame them for slacking off.  
  
After this, it was back to headquarters for a full maintenance check, and Rex was free to do whatever unless another world-ending crisis cropped up.  
  
Which happened with surprising frequency.  
  
The tree canopy had gaps that showed patches of grass and dirt underneath. It was a shame; some of the flowers planted were pleasing to the eye, even as scattered petals against the mud.  
  
There, half hidden by the sparse leaves of an oncoming autumn —  
  
"That's what's been causing the panic?" it didn't look impressive; short and round, lightly furred, like a star-nosed mole if it had a bunch of tentacle-like bones waving on its face. Rex turned to Six with an incredulous expression, pointing towards the center screen. Not exactly _normal_ , but nothing to evacuate a whole town for.  
  
To be honest, it looked pretty goofy. Like a second-rate Cthulhu.  
  
"Keep watching."  
  
The bone protrusions rippled, the mole's claws lengthened, and the mole ducked into the earth with a burst of speed as it dug a tunnel downwards.  
  
"Wow. _Drilling_ ," Rex was thoroughly unimpressed by the mole-thing. Way too hyped, "I'm quivering in my boots already."  
  
"The residents of this town discovered it after it dug through the water pipes," he recited, as if reading a script from the back of his sunglasses, "And the underground electrical wiring. And an apartment's foundation. And —"  
  
"Okay, okay, I get it," Rex rolled his eyes, eager to get a move on. The Keep had stopped by now, hovering in place above a large park, "Remind me why it's Class 1 again?"  
  
"Class 2. And though it may not look like much, it _is_ causing property damage on the scale of a natural disaster while simultaneously being difficult to predict and locate," Six gave him a knowing look, which must have been difficult considering his eyes were hidden, "Combat ability, while a large factor in ranking, isn't everything."  
  
"Okay, let me rephrase: why is the Keep here? A bit overboard, especially with us on board," he put extra emphasis on us; it wasn't a normal, 'you and I' us but a 'we're super powerful, super secret, top-tier Providence agents! _This is overkill_ ' us. Rex crossed his arms, tilting his head and waiting for an answer from the agent.  
  
"There are two of them."  
  
"Sure, we can chop up _one_ mole while the Keep bombs the other from above," he threw up his arms, daring a reaction from Six. Around them, the grunts hid their laughter through coughs; Calan had a small smile on his face, half-hidden by one of his hands.  
  
"The Keep also needs a performance check," Six finally broke eye (sunglasses?) contact, looking to the right of Rex, "To be honest, White only assigned the Keep out of convenience."  
  
"He could have sent a jet or something —" Rex narrowed his eyes and put his hands to his hips, "Maybe he didn't know the _fearsome_ Class 2 EVOs' only there because of property damage instead of murder capability and just sent the Keep on its merry way. Did he read the files?"  
  
"Nope. He was busy at the time," Six raised an eyebrow, "Although, by your logic, you didn't read the files either."  
  
"When have I ever?"  
  
"You've escaped from Providence to illegally assist in missions you've discovered from hacking dozens of times."  
  
"Those don't count!"

Six’s reply was a level stare.

“Okay, maybe those _did_ count.” the screen looked awfully great this time of day and — _oops_ , he just admitted to sneaking out to join missions, nobody was suppose to find _that_ out until at _least_ a month later,  “Uh, let’s get on with the mission already!”

* * *

  
Three hours.

Three hours of chasing one EVO while keeping an eye out for another.

Not that the other mole-creature appeared, of _course_ — instead, the Keep did _whatever_ the Keep did in its downtime while Rex chased mounds of dirt in a desperate attempt to nab the mole. If he tried to stomp it, the mole would dig deeper down and they would risk losing sight of it. If he tried to grab it on his own, the mole would scurry away before Rex could get a build up.

He tried climbing into the tunnels created, one hour in.

Six had to dig him out.

Now, Six was off in the distance perched on a tree branch, watching Rex stab the ground with the B.F.S. in fits of anger. His arms were crossed and Rex swore that he was _enjoying_ him floundering about.

“A little _help_ here?”

Two blades streaked past Rex’s head, sinking into a patch of dirt quicker than he could say ‘what the heck was _that_ for?!’.

“Caught it.”

Rex raised a brow upwards, wondering how both of his blades jammed into the earth counted as successfully catching an EVO.

Six moved from the tree branches to his swords in one graceful movement, dragging out the blades from the dirt with flourish.

The mole was speared through the tentacles from both of the magna-blades, spasming more and more as Rex approached it with a dumbfounded look. Three hours of chasing that mole around, and Six caught it in an _instant_.

Curing it wasn’t anything special — a blue flash, and the large mole became a small mole. It was actually quite endearing, the way it squealed in Rex’s hands, squirming in his grip.

Who was he kidding, he wanted to punt the mole to Hong Kong.

The mole was _accidentally_ dropped onto the ground and it scurried into the earth once more, Rex settling on glaring at it until it was out of view; didn’t want Six to go on a lecture about refraining from indulging oneself too often or something similarly _virtuous_ and _cheesy_ .  
  
“Well. Job done.” Rex swiped off some dirt from his gloves, then brushed soil from his jacket (grimacing as he realized the amount of dirt that must be in his hair and in places he would never want dirt to be) before building the Boogie Pack and lifting his goggles down. “Time to head back.”  
  
"Rex," Six turned his head to look at him, impatience filling his every movement, "We still need to find the other one."  
  
"Which hasn't been seen at _all_ since we got here," Rex dissolved the Boogie Pack, pushed his goggles upwards, and shrugged at Six; Six responded by furrowing his brow, "Maybe someone thought they saw another EVO when in fact they saw, I dunno. A rock? Some dude's dog?"  
  
The magna-blades slipped into Six's sleeves with a twist of his wrist, and he fully swivelled to face Rex.  
  
"We need to stay diligent. The people living here are counting on Providence." Six paused, a split second of thinking before continuing, "Also, we'll have to return later if we leave an EVO here."  
  
"Which _means_ we'll have more data on it and hopefully have a better tracking system than shoving our weapons into the ground and hoping for the best!"  
  
"Providence is _not_ leaving until the threat is neutralized."  
  
Mouth opened in the beginning of a retort, brows furrowed in irritation, Rex was focused entirely on Six. Six, who _apparently_ couldn't see reason. The little mole could be dealt with later; now, Rex was hungry and had the strong desire to take a warm shower then sleep.  
  
The earth behind Six shifted.  
  
Rex barely gave it a thought.  
  
"C'mon, can we at least go back to the Keep? I promise —"  
  
It was the moment something white poked out of the ground, sharper than the EVO that came before it and much larger, that Rex thought — _Oh. That's important._ _  
_  
The spike arched upwards.  
  
The sound of bone ripping through flesh was thick — Rex blanched, unable to look away. It was like watching an airplane hurtle downwards; horrifying, mesmerizing, a dance of fire and metal that was difficult to pull his eyes away even though he was screaming between retches —  
  
Six staggered, unbalanced as his right leg slid away from the rest of his body; the stagger turned into a topple as his body refused to move.  
  
Rex wasn’t quite sure what to make of Six's expression. His eyes were covered, as always, but instead of a deep scowl his mouth was open, teeth biting his lip in a desperate attempt to remain composed; blood stained his jaw, his teeth, his clothes, droplets scattering in a fine mist when gasps forced their way out of his throat.  
  
Rex couldn't move either.  
  
His right arm followed as the last sinews ripped apart — it fell faster, not quite synced up with the mess that use to be his shoulder.  
  
Blood pooled around his body, staining the grass and his clothes. Hysterically, Rex thought about how the mix of red, green, and white would be perfect for Christmas — _Six should really get different colours of clothing_ — they suited him.  
  
Hah. Suited.  
  
_I'm joking. 'Cause if I don't, I'm gonna remember how scared I am right now._  
  
The last bit of the mole EVO — ex-plant, animal, human, _he didn't care_ — exploded against Rex's fist. He barely noticed the wet pieces of flesh that clung to his jacket, the slow rumble as his build fell apart, the Keep drifting in the sky above —  
  
Too slow. They were too slow.  
  
For him to notify the Keep, for a team to be sent down in a smaller craft, for a doctor to stabilize his condition; it took time. It would take _too much_ time, Six was in shock and he was losing blood too quickly (much too quickly. None of it was clotting. Rex looked at the strange fluid that escaped from the EVO's spikes with hate, despair, _desperation_ ) and while Rex didn't know the exact amount of liters someone could lose before they went into a coma (or worse, he didn't want to think about _or worse_ ), he was sure Six was approaching that amount —  
  
Rex was glad Six was unconscious. The wounds looked painful.  
  
"Rex to Keep! Rex to anyone, please," his voice cracked as he knelt down, one hand on the communicator and one lying limp against the grass, "Six is in critical condition, Code Red!"  
  
He was vaguely aware that Code Red probably meant something completely different. Something arbitrary like 'White's milk chamber is broken'.  
  
It sounded official, though, he hoped that it would speed everyone up.  
  
It was quiet. It was sunny. Puffy white clouds lined the sky. The day was too beautiful, too idyllic for him to almost lose his father figure.  
  
The Keep shifted in the sky, engines whirring faster, but Rex barely noticed that — just Six's body in front of him, his quick breathing, flashes of memories as he thought —  
  
_Oh no._  
  
_I distracted him._  
  
A funeral. Sunglasses still on his head. Would they bury him minus an arm and a leg? The arm and leg thrown in there? Would they stitch it back on?  
  
Useless.  
  
_People will blame me, won't they?_  
  
Dr. Holiday looking at Six with concern morphing to fear, then at him with hate. White Knight seeming more disinterested than usual, then not showing up on screen for weeks. Callan not allowing him to sneak out anymore. Providence Agents parting around him as he walked through the hallways as if he were a dead man walking heading to his execution —  
  
What would the Numbers think? They were his _'family'_ . Would they mourn at the loss of a team member? Laugh at such a stupid death? What would One think, if he was still alive — Six growing up to be kinder, less merciless and having all of that development cruelly ripped away.  
  
Part of him objects, says that the Numbers _weren't_ Six's family. They, at Providence, were.  
  
_I want to fix this._  
  
Something stirred inside of him. Rex couldn't pinpoint what the feeling was emotionally or physically — the closest analogy was a machine booting up, an unknown revealing itself in little fanfare.  
  
It feels close to an Omega build. Not quick the scale of one, but —  
  
He looked at both of his hands, cyan lines streaking across them like comets. Pulsing.  
  
He knows it isn't a build. He's not quite sure how, maybe the nanites were talking to him!  
  
The thought lingers on longer than a joke ought to. Something _odd_ happened the last time he unloaded his nanites, something _weird_ happened with One, and while nobody gave him the specifics —

  
  
**Build protocol enabled. Command accepted. Stand by for additional user input.**

  
  
_Everyone's counting on me, aren't they?_  
  
Rex clenched his fists. Determination overwrote his fear. The pattern grew brighter.  
  
He can hear them.  
  
The nanites, all singing.  
  
All of Rex's —  
  
( He is able to control nanites. He has the first, the last, the master control — machines bend to his will, removing themselves from DNA, resetting a host to 'base'.  
  
Providence ran tests. Scars disappearing. Tattoos gone. Limbs regrown. Any EVO cured became whatever the being should be based on their DNA, not what they physically were before.  
  
They called him the cure.  
  
Nobody said he could not be the catalyst. )  
  
All of Six's —  
  
( He resists the cure, of course — from his experience with One, it is to be expected.  
  
The cure for the disease called hunger. Thirst.  
  
Weakness.  
  
Most people cannot resist the temptation of being stronger, smarter; their wills are fragile. Easily broken.  
  
And yet —  
  
They cling onto the idea of staying in one form, of staying 'sentient'.  
  
Even if it meant the nanites couldn't save them. )  
  
Rex ripped off his gloves and pressed on Six's back. He tried not to look at his blood, at his shoulder, at his hip — the communicator rang. He ignored that too.  
  
The sunglasses reflected an eerie blue glow, dancing shadows as the light pulsed along with the array on his body.  
  
Activating nanites goes against every fiber in Rex's being, every instinct he's learned in the three years of his memory — instead of taking out activated nanites, he's attempting to put nanites in. The cylinders pressing outwards, ever outwards, changing DNA unchecked in lieu of the nanites returning to their inactive state.  
  
Instead of the familiar, slow whine of machines powering down deep inside him, it's the frantic pitch of thousands of nanites all powering up.  
  
The lines wavered, close to flickering out and briefly he's hit by an onslaught of anxiety —  
  
He has to succeed.  
  
Rex focused, blocking out the metallic smell, the slickness of his blood-splattered clothing, angry shouts in his ear from a higher-up at Providence (Calan or Knight, he wasn't sure), the feeling of his heart hammering against his chest.  
  
His communicator cracked in half as blue lines raced upwards.  
  
The glow strengthened.  
  
Through half-opened eyes, he could see the radiance shining brighter — never has the harsh blue looked more welcoming in his life, not even the times when his built the Smack Hands just in time to save his life. He wants to cheer, to congratulate himself, but his job wasn't finished yet; just the most difficult portion.  
  
The lines spread from the palm of his hand across Six's unmoving form as Rex forced his own activated nanites in — they bloomed across Six in a chain reaction, a cascade of yellow light as the nanites powered on —  
  
Eager to help.  
  
_This is what they're made for._  
  
It was quicker than Rex could parse, even pumped full of adrenaline — movement from Six's shoulder. Through half-closed eyes from concentration, Rex could see —  
  
It felt cold, all of a sudden.  
  
It looked exactly like the spike that tore through Six, the — the thing coming from the stump. Down to the scars from their battle. It protruded at an odd angle from Six's natural flesh, like it didn't belong — different colour (not even green!), different shape, different texture, it looked _wrong_.  
  
Rex thought that the EVO had come back for more, for a second.  
_  
__Why does it look like that? Out of all possible EVO forms — that?!_  
  
Another one joined it, this time twisting out from the stump formerly known as Six's right leg in a grotesque dance; writhing, waving, tearing apart the grass but avoiding his own body.  
  
_Worst case scenario: previous EVO was a parasite, and Six was the new host._ _  
__  
__Best case scenario: you just turned your father figure into a monster._ _  
__  
__Hooray?_  
  
_Well_ , Rex's hands stayed firmly connected to Six's body, fear coursing through him, _The bleeding's stopped._  
  
That wasn't quite true; a final splatter was forced out of Six's mouth as he coughed, a wet hacking sound that drew Rex's attention in an instant; he looked horrible, blood and dirt covering his face, expression twisted in a grimace.  
  
Rex almost regretted shoving him to consciousness.  
  
_Even through all that, he still has those sunglasses on_ , Rex thought with a flicker of amusement. It would be okay. It would all be okay.  
  
Rex stopped activating Six's nanites, still wary of the two tendrils that now curled up against his body. They ceased thrashing moments ago, now undulating lazily in the grass.  
  
"Is that — is that my arm?" despite the question, Six's voice was oddly calm.  
  
"The tentacle or —" Rex stopped and followed Six's gaze. There, in front of his eyes, was his previous limb. Arm or leg, he couldn't tell; it was mangled beyond all recognition, covered in tatters of green and red.  
  
The sights and smells hit him harder than a subway train.  
  
He stopped himself from emptying his lunch on Six. He's seen worse, but knowing the previous owner somehow intensified his nausea.  
  
"Tentacle?" there was an edge to Six's voice now, harsh and hysterical. Unnoticeable to a stranger, but highly different to his normal tone of voice if someone knew what to look for.  
  
"Uh, just wait a sec," the steps to cure someone were like second nature to him — the ghost of a thought, and the lines shifted. Calling his nanites back to him.  
  
The spikes thickened and split into a facsimile of bones, held together by half-formed joints — muscle and skin oozed out of Six's shoulder and hip, graceful in their movement. Flowing, fastening, concealing.  
  
One fluid movement, and Six looked perfectly fine. Minus a sleeve and a pant leg. No scars, no scabs, not even a faint line indicating where old met new; as if nothing had happened. That everything was a bad dream.  
  
The leaves rustled above, blurred with the faint hum of the Keep. There was another noised mixed in; high-pitched, growing steadily louder.  
  
Probably the jet he asked for, loaded with doctors expecting the worse.  
  
Rex removed his hands from Six with patience fit for calming down a wild animal — slow, deliberate movements, designed to soothe and not startle.  
  
Still, Six flinched. The involuntary movement was the only indication that Six was still conscious; he was fixated on the mound of flesh and bone in front of him that use to be him, barely moving, barely breathing.  
  
Dazed; that's what he would call Six's current expression. Or meditative. It was as if he was deep in a trance, mind wandering away from his body, forcing himself calm.  
  
Expecting, dreading, to look down at his right limbs and see a huge bleeding gap where it once was.  
  
The silence was deafening; Rex needed to talk. To Six, to himself, to the trees and bushes around him — he didn't care, he wanted to talk and laugh and cry because —  
  
_I can't believe that just happened._  
  
"Do you think we should give a burial to those?"  
  
A question returned with more silence. He almost gave up the conversation, eyeing a few interesting trees, before —  
  
"What would be the purpose of that?"  
  
"Y'know, on the tombstone it could say ' _here lies Six's first set of limbs_ '. It'll be a great lead-in to a story," Rex nudged Six. Bad idea; his elbow jammed into Six like a brick wall, "On second thought, maybe not."  
  
"There's no graveyard on Providence grounds. Bodies are sent back to their families," Six pushed himself upwards to sit alongside Rex. Using only his left arm, he noticed, but kept that observation to himself. Six looked at nothing in particular, "If no family members are available or they are unidentifiable, they're burnt to ashes and scattered into the canyon ."  
  
Which happened way too often. Rex was patched up in the Lab, so _unfortunately_ he didn't get to see the normal infirmary, but out in the field with the assault vehicles scrambling to pick up the pieces after a particularly long fight, tire screeches mixing with human screams of help —  
  
Absently, Rex itched at his skin.  
  
If he concentrated, he could almost smell the smoke.  
  
_Wait._  
  
Actually, he didn't need to concentrate to smell an acrid tang. A shadow drifted on them, the wind picking up and throwing up upturned dirt and broken branches.  
  
The white form of a Providence jet hovered above them, a hatch opening up with a stretcher attached to a cord being lowered.  
  
"Oh!" Rex leapt up, smiling from ear to ear. "Since you're in a fragile condition, I can totally fly you up, right?"  
  
Six glanced down at his exposed arm before levelling his gaze at Rex, expression neutral. "I'll risk it."

* * *

  
The flight back was uneventful compared to the frantic moments just before. Six sat in the corner of the on-board infirmary, screens monitoring his status surrounding him; Rex didn’t know what half of the graphs or words meant, but none of the numbers were red and no alarms were sounding, so Six was fine, right?

It was actually pretty boring, sitting in one spot to look after Six (how the tables have turned). The only exciting part was when White had appeared on the screen to shout at Rex, then the screen split to reveal Holiday also shouting at Rex, and _Six, why are you hiding a smile I can see that._

White had long since left to resume leading Providence or drink milk or whatever, and Holiday disappeared from the screen soon after, giving a concerned look towards the both of them. Now, silence permeated the room as the Keep flew back to Providence.

Rex was debating whether he should turn the screen back on to watch whatever was on TV when Six shifted in the sheets, marking the first large movement from him in half an hour.

  
"I could have died." A simple statement.  
  
_And the truth_ , Rex thought, guilt flooding back into him, face hot with a mix of embarrassment and shame. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't be. I should have paid more attention," Six's expression was of cold determination; for what, Rex wasn't sure. Most likely the determination to improve himself, "An accident like this was bound to happen sooner or later.”

He wanted to say something, to shift the blame back on himself to get Six to relax, but he seemed dead-set on his ideals. Any other apologies were unspoken, hanging thick in the air.

The rest of the trip to Providence was in silence.

* * *

  
It was subtle, but Six was acting strange.  
  
Nothing too big, nothing too alarming to suggest that he'd been replaced by a shapeshifter, but the signs were still there — Rex felt a smudge of guilt from spying on Six, but at the same time he would have felt more guilt from not looking over Six after his mistake.  
  
The first day —  
  
Six excused himself early from a meeting. White looked peeved, but allowed it.  
  
That was the first time that Rex had seen Six leaving early. If anything, he should have stayed late to talk to White about — well, _something_ , it wasn't like Rex stayed in the war room longer than he's obligated to.  
  
Rex didn't think much of it and went back to keeping his eyes open during a boring, boring speech.  
  
The second day —  
  
Nothing happened. Nothing.  
  
As in, Rex didn't see Six at all during the day; not in the lab, not in the war room, not tucked somewhere in a dark corner of Providence contacting the Numbers, nothing.  
  
The only explanation was White giving a vague explanation of him wanting a small break.  
  
His room was locked.  
  
The third day —  
  
Six was quiet. Well, he was normally quiet, but that day he was completely silent — the words he did speak where mumbled in low tones, and Rex found himself nodding politely after not hearing the same phrase repeated three times.  
  
Sometimes he swore the agent said something, but Six just shook his head when Rex asked.  
  
The fourth day —  
  
7 am. Six's cup of tea crashed to the floor. He apologized, clutching at his right arm while backing out of the lab.  
  
Holiday called someone to clean up the shards of ceramic on the floor, face filled with confusion and worry. She went back to typing a report but her work was slower, mind muddled with off-topic thoughts.  
  
Rex tried to follow him but the hallways were empty.  
  
Uneasy, he returned to the lab and casually asked Holiday if anything was wrong with him.  
  
Six was reportedly in perfect health. Better than perfect, even.  
  
Rex forced down his anxiety and smiled.  
  
Today was the fifth day.

* * *

Rex stopped his stretches as the door whooshed open, waving at Six. The green suited man didn’t wave back, but it was expected – a small nod was the largest form of greeting Rex had observed during training sessions, and those were saved for the really good days. Which usually was made up of days where Six was rarely seen in the hallways or in the lab, instead tearing apart EVOs at city blocks or national parks.  
  
And the days where Six was actively socializing with other people (‘other people’ consisting of Rex, Holiday, and White Knight) – the number of those could be counted on one hand.  
  
Although –  
  
Maybe it was the way his brows were furrowed, or the tenseness in his posture, but Six looked distracted. A bit pale, sweaty, and distracted. Maybe he just didn’t notice?  
  
Rex couldn’t blame him after the fiasco earlier this week.  
  
“Looking a bit under the weather there, Six,” Rex teased, smile wide, “I’m not gonna go easy on you, y’know.”  
  
“I’ll manage.”  
  
It was almost a routine – stand a few feet apart and acknowledge the other, Rex builds the Smack Hands, Rex punches first and Six dodges, Six slashes his right blade and Rex would use his Smack Hands to block it, Six slashes his left blade and Rex would have to sidestep, continuing onwards like actors in a play. The time for more unique moves, more creative strikes was later; for now they were just warming up.  

  
The first punch hit empty air, like always; a gust of wind was the only thing that marked Six was once there. Rex flicked his eyes upwards, following Six's arc above him — this dodge was a particularly good one, fit for one of the most dangerous people on Earth.  
  
It was a _really_ good dodge, actually. Rex likened it to a startled cat — one time he watched one leap high in the air after some person's car alarm went off, and Rex got slammed into the same car after getting distracted and laughing.  
  
Smack Hands raised above of him, Rex was perfectly defended from Six's downwards dual stab ( _does he name them cool names like my builds? I mean, I could name them for him_ ).  
  
Rex noted that he going off of the script a bit, but that happened every few months. Nothing to be too worried about.  
  
The agent probably wanted to keep his skills sharp.  
  
The fists were thrust upwards, and Rex tightened the internal mechanism to trap the blades inside.  
  
It seemed to have worked, kinda of — Six pulled away with only one of his blades, irritation crossing his face as he backflipped away with the fluidity of a professional dancer.  
  
_If he's gonna change things up, then I will too._  
  
The internal workings shifted, connecting and revolving deep inside his Smack Hands. In a second the magna-blades were flung off into a wall, missing Six by an inch, as the entire thing started spinning like a drill — a huge, orange, fist-drill meant for punching people.  
  
_Wait, I don't have a name for these?_  
  
Six leapt backwards, picking up the remaining blade and using his momentum to push off the wall, speeding towards Rex.  
  
_What about….the Drill Hands? A bit obvious. Spin Fists? Pivot Mitt? That's kinda lame._ _  
_  
Rex swung, using the danger of the drills to set up a makeshift perimeter — Six was all too human (maybe? Rex sometimes thought about the possibility of him being an android, or at least a cyborg), sliding around the wildly swinging hands to assess the situation.  
  
_At least the other alt modes are easy to name. Rex Ram. Big Fat Chainsaw. Uh, Turbine Grabby-Things_ —  
  
His thoughts froze as his brain finally caught up with the situation. Six wasn’t moving to attack, or getting up from the slide at all; he was hunched over on the ground, holding his head as if wounded. His nails dug into his scalp, and Rex guessed that if he could see his face Six would have a scowl on it.  
  
Rex hadn’t landed a hit on him, though. _  
_  
Before Rex could gloat, or ask if anything was wrong, or crack a joke, a Six sprung up as if the event never occurred — his muscles tense and grip on the blades painfully tight, but otherwise unscathed.  
  
A feint? Clever, he could easily set up sneak attacks while pretending to be injured.

Odd that he would reveal his trick so _early_ .  
  
A smirk crossed Rex's face. The hands revolved to a stop, clicking back into place as he sprinted forwards towards his target.  
  
There was something _off_ .  
  
Rex couldn't name it. Six was standing there, posture perfect, ready to use his mechanical fists as leverage for a dodge. He could see it in his mind already — Six would leap off of his Smack Hands, he would jam his hands into the wall, lose precious time destroying them, and by the time he turned around to face his enemy two swords would be at his throat.  
  
His reflexes still needed to catch up to his thoughts. Rex was powerless, careening forwards by his momentum even as his mind screamed that he needed to _move_ —  
  
Something slammed against his right fist, jamming itself between Rex and the training room wall.  
  
A wide grin appeared on his face —  
  
Rex noticed how cold the training room was. White should've invested in heating for headquarters.  
  
He was scared to look. He was scared to move. Not that it mattered; his builds fell into pieces, scattering around the floor and revealing the sight like curtains unveiling a stage —  
  
"Six? Are you alright?" Rex called towards him, tilting his head. This wasn’t like him. Six was supposed to give a dry retort. Six was supposed to tell him to ignore it and keep training.  
  
Six wasn't supposed to crumple against the wall in one hit, limbs shaking and breath coming in quick pants.  
  
Six wasn't supposed to get hit, period.  
  
"Should I—" Rex gulped, and glanced at one of the surveillance cameras in a silent plea — was anyone checking on them? He would even welcome White's pasty mug appearing on the wall if it meant Six would go back to normal, "Should I get help?"  
  
_What kind of question is that?_ Rex wanted to slap himself right in the face — he just smashed Six against the tiles on the wall. He _absolutely_ needed help.  
  
The memory burned into his head; the joy tinged with confusion as his fist got closer and closer to an unmoving Six (normally he would be a _blur_ ), a wide smile as his hand connected to flesh then — fear.  
  
Realization.  
  
His builds disintegrating, crashing into a circle of twisted metal around him, whether by unconscious will or by his biometrics diving downwards.  
  
Any more and he would have been a smear —  
  
He _should_ have been a smear —  
  
There's no blood.  
  
No splatter of red staining the stark-white walls of Providence, no crimson blooming across Six’s suit; it was unnerving, seeing everything be so normal other than faint cracks on the tiles.  
  
"H-hey Six, your plan isn't working," Rex's smile's wavering and he's staring wide-eyed at the body as if it was going the spring up at any second, "Playing dead? Puh-lease, EVOs try that every week. Never worked. Except for that one time with the turtle thing."  
  
No reply. Six's breathing wasn't stabilizing, fluctuating between deep wheezes and hurried gasps of air. One of his hands was gripped tightly on the grip of a magna-blade — the other hand was grasping at empty air, fingers twitching and muscles tensing as if he was struggling against an unseen foe.  
  
The sunglasses were still planted firmly on his head. Askew, but still covering his eyes.  
  
"This is the part where you say, 'it was a _tortoise_ , Rex, you need to brush up on your _animal recognition skills_ '," he did a crude imitation of Six's voice — deep, bland, always pointing out his faults. Maybe the rare compliment or two, "Please. This isn't funny anymore."  
  
He lifted his hand to his ear out of habit, but brushed up against nothing — he swore inwardly; they were in Providence Headquarters, in a training room at that. The area he was standing in had safeguards for the safeguards, a whole 300-page book for precautions, and a contingency plan in case an elephant herd somehow made its way into the inner sanctum of Providence – it was a safe, controlled environment.  
  
Rex hardly felt safe.  
  
The situation didn’t feel under control.  
  
The vague feeling of needing to _do_ something other than stand around uselessly took him over; his gaze broke away from Six’s barely-moving body and he turned his head to look at the wall behind him.  
  
He felt like he was going on autopilot; limbs going through motions to drag him to the controls built into the wall while his consciousness was a million miles away, the repetition of _everything’s going to be okay, you can fix again_ this hammering against his head, hand hovering over familiar buttons while he tried to remember the code for ‘Emergency, I need an adult’.  
  
A few seconds passed of him motionless, staring dazed at the wall before his mind snapped back and he thought – _what am I doing?!_  
  
There was a slapping noise as his hand surged onto the buttons, blue lines running down his palm and spreading across the wall. It didn’t take much for his goal to be reached – just a short conversation from him, to his nanites, to the communications system across Providence and he could talk through any speaker, see through any camera, trip up any alarms he wished –  
  
He has one person in mind. Well, _two_ , but Holiday wasn’t guaranteed to be at one location all day.  
  
Rex isn’t quite sure how he knows the connection was successful – there was no noise, no artificial voice telling him ‘congratulations!’, no fancy screen popping up inches from his eyes, just a feeling deep inside him as his nanites patted themselves on the back for a job well done. Well, the faint sound of static emanating from the speakers was helpful, too, but the link between him and technology existed and was _powerful_ .    
  
"Rex," for once in his life, Rex was relieved to hear White Knight's dismissive tone. Through the speaker, he could hear papers being shuffled and a deep sigh, "I _told_ you not to hack into secure channels. It's a privacy issue."  
  
How was he going to explain? 'Sorry, I might have just killed Six right after he had a near-death experience, can you send Holiday over please and thank you'? 'Whoops, Six needs a doctor right now because his ribcage may be crushed'?  
  
"If you're not going to do anything, cut the connect —"  
  
"Six is —" that caught White's attention; he shut up in an instant, "Six is down. I'm in the training room, he's—"  
  
A sharp pain shooting from his ear, quick movement in the corner of his eye —  
  
A blade jammed in the speaker, White's voice dying in the middle of a question.  
  
Rex removed his hand from the wall and turned around in one fluid motion, confusion flooding into him. Six didn't take training _that_ seriously. He hoped.  
  
Six rose up, putting his right hand down; his posture was hunched and unlike any fighting stance Rex had seen before.  
  
And Rex was taught a lot of them. Notably, by the man in front of him.  
  
He had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't a fighting stance; nothing professional, anyway. It resembled the pose of a feral animal defending its territory from others, teeth bared, fingers splayed and curved —  
  
_Oh_ , the puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind, _That’s not a good sign._  
  
He felt his blood pounding as adrenaline rushed through his system, cyan lines spreading down from his elbow.  
  
The first thing he noticed was that Six's sunglasses were completely off, broken in a corner of the room. The two black pieces were striking against the pure white floor, and Rex looked at Six’s swaying form expectantly.  
  
He wasn't making any moves to grab them.  
  
The second thing he noticed was the raw emotion on Six's face — a flurry of fear, uncertainty, _rage_ — as his eyes focused on Rex.  
  
All six of them.


	4. Scrapped Draft - White King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Scrapped Draft / White King**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Summary:** (Unfinished+Scrapped EVO!White) _Suit compromised_ , the artificial female voice intoned, calm in the midst of chaos. 
> 
> Rex felt a chill run down his back as he tiptoed around the EVO, slow steps to not catch its attention. Sweat rolled down his face. Wasn't it suit _integrity compromised?_ Or was he mistaken? 
> 
> _Nanite breach detected._  
>  **Verse:** Canon, except also I forgot the monkey again. how does this happen. what a shame.  
>  **Ships:** None  
>  **Characters:** Rex, Six, White Knight, Holiday  
>  **Warnings:** Blood, gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Completely jettisoned this fic after deciding the AU from Black and White is better. Final one's going to be titled Checkmate.
> 
> Also Six in Negative Six should have lost his arm after a Breach portal misfire/Biowulf claw slash, me stressing over that is actually the main reason the next part isn't finished yet haha
> 
> **EDIT: apologies for the confusion, this is not only unfinished (missing scenes like Holiday becoming director, Six's mission and _the entire second half_ ) but it's also not going to be completely anytime soon. totally up for grabs though**

"The snake EVO -"

"Snake?" Rex cut off Knight's explanation with his disbelief, eyes narrowed at the screen in front of him. Sure, the EVO had scale-like markings and was limbless, but that was where the similarities ended, "That's _totally_ a worm."

"As I was _saying_ ," he glared at Rex, neutral expression replaced with faint irritation, "The snake EVO has been terrorizing the Providence soldiers patrolling Bellwood. While it hasn't _properly_ entered city grounds, the proximity to both headquarters and a dense suburban area is troubling."

* * *

Rex screwed his eyes shut, hands in front of him as if it could quell the oncoming worm; the buzzing brought back uncomfortable memories, of going into a nest, of watching a bleach bomb do nothing, of knowing millions will die if Providence doesn't push the bugs back, of almost drowning.

Well - _drowning_. Then the Omega Nanite forcing his heart to move again, to continue pumping blood.

Clenching his fist, he willed his builds - preferably the Bad Axes but _any of them, please_ \- to form.

Blue lines rushed up his arms, and hope welled up inside of him -

Only to be crushed when they flickered out.

_Suit compromised._

The artificial female voice intoned, calm in the midst of chaos. He felt a chill run down his back as he tiptoed around the EVO, slow steps to not catch its attention.

Sweat rolled down Rex's face. Wasn't it suit _integrity_ compromised? Or was he mistaken?

The worm dove back into the tiles, right in front of White. He half-expected him to push himself up in spite of his injuries, gauntlet out and laser at the ready.

Curiously, he stayed perfectly still, even in the awkward pose slumped against the wall. The exosuit did fine against the virus when the sleeping plague hit, and that was a huge green sleep-inducing monstrosity - this overgrown earthworm was small fry compared to that.

The beast was circling around White's still form, a living cage that could be easily flown over, or jumped over, or cut apart - another glaring reminder that he needed his biometrics to be back to normal. For now, he needed to watch closely for any openings.

He could see the individual scales on the EVO's body - a sleek layer of armour that protected it from harm, rushing past him -

It slithered close to the ground, the speed enough to shear off Rex's hands if he made the mistake of curing it. While he could regrow his limbs, that had only occurred when his builds were up and that obviously couldn't happen now; there was too much at stake to risk it. How was he going to carry White Knight out with no hands?

With a _lot_ of difficulty.

Rex backed off, desperate for a look on what was happening on the other side. Was Knight back up? Was the worm nibbling on his boots?

His eyes widened.

Above, Rex could see red staining the white of the walls, the white of the tiles -

The white of Knight's exosuit.

The yellow shards of glass scattered across the tiles.

_Nanite breach detected._

* * *

There was no body for the funeral.

The airtight casket was lifted down into the desert soil; it wasn't listed in Knight's will, but Six said he would have liked it. Nanite-free, even in death.

It wasn't as if any of them could dispute it.

Although —

_Teeth ripping apart the rest of the suit, fangs piercing large holes that leaked red._

_Both of them were still. Knight didn't have much of a choice, but Rex felt all his muscles lock up; why wouldn't his arms move? Why wouldn't his builds appear when he called for them?_

_Why_ couldn't _he save everyone?_

_Holiday and Six were shouting in his ear. The camera sparked on the floor to the right of him. A tail speeding towards his head as the worm dove downwards._

_They found Rex sprawled on the cracked flooring, scars on his face already healed by his nanites - weak, he asked the field medics to check up on Knight._

_The only problem is that he was missing. So was the EVO._

_White Knight was listed as killed in action once Rex woke up and could give his account, stuttering with a distant look in his eye all the while._

The suit was breached. Knight died a ' _freak_ ', the same as every other living organism in the world.

If it was someone's idea of a joke, it wasn't a funny one.

* * *

"Why do you have a picture of some abandoned docks up?" Rex walked up to the war room's large screen, squinting at it; with a bit more scrutiny, he could see faint wisps of smoke coming up from unidentified black objects and scattered chunks of charred flesh.

Cargo? Someone using the abandoned area as a weapon testing location? This was _Providence_ , though. Maybe it was acidic EVO droppings.

"This is the last known location of the EVO that attacked Bellwood," Holiday zoomed up on the lumpy black bits, a picture of the EVO worm brought up to the right. A rush of anger went through Rex the moment the work came into view and his hands clenched, "And if I'm seeing this correctly, that's the EVO."

"Wait, what?" they couldn't kill it out of revenge now. Rex knew that it was a petty thought, that it was better for the EVO to be eliminated _sooner_ rather than _later_ , but feeling his builds sink into the EVO's flesh would have been _highly_ satisfying.

"Something has taken up residence in the abandoned docks, it seems," she brought up some notes and Rex skimmed through them; the worm had been ripped apart and burned beyond recognition. Without the tag and the teeth, it would have been impossible to connect the charred corpse to the EVO, "Something with high heat generation. I've tentatively given it a Class 1 ranking."

Rex whistled, and turned his head to Six to see his reaction. Nothing but cold determination. "Where is it now?"

"No idea, the satellites haven't picked up this EVO before. It's strange - there's no trace of it before today," Holiday hummed, facing Rex and Six, "Not even blurry pictures on social media."

"Maybe nothing before the worm was a threat to it," whatever it was, it looked _powerful_ \- no blood stained the concrete, indicating a rather one-sided fight on the mystery EVO's side, "I mean, if it lived underground or something, having a worm that can go below is a huge problem, right?"

Holiday absently nodded, eyes looking at the ground. Rex sighed, her mind was likely elsewhere.

The sound of various grunts typing filled the silence that followed.

"I can find it. Send me." Six took a step forward, conviction laced in his every word; Rex had a feeling that he'd find a way to go on the mission even if he was in the Providence maximum security jail.

* * *

"It's not very active, from what we've seen," Holiday points at her notes, and a picture she had taken from the quick skirmish, "Which is good. Heat and light generation, mixed with high maneuverability and large size would spell a disaster for urban areas. Blindness and burns would render whoever close to it defenseless, then it could swoop in for easy kills."

The hallways of Providence were small; small enough for the dragon to wreck havoc if it ever decided to get up. If. They were all counting on it staying still.

"So it likes to sit in one place and do nothing," Rex grinned. It almost reminded him of -

His smile fell.

The blank screens in the war room, the absence of snappy warnings to stay on track, the sullen mood that hung in the air made White's absence even more noticeable.

* * *

"Wait, this isn't -" Holiday tapped a few keys on the screen, bringing up three windows. Lines, dots, a grid, Rex didn't need three PHDs to understand what was in front of them

All of them presented the irrefutable fact that the EVO was on the move.

"It's not stopping, or even slowing down," she turned around to face Six and Rex, pleading, "What would make it start moving?"

"Food?" Rex shrugged; just a hour ago it was hibernating, and the entire area was evacuated. No earthquakes or storms, even no large breezes, by all counts it should have stayed there until Rex was equipped with heat-proof gear and could cure it.

"Where is it heading?"

Holiday brought up the satellite image - it wasn't hard to find the EVO. A blinding ball of light with a line of scorched land was quite noticeable, to say the least. The form was blocked by the generated light, but it was easy to see where the six-winged dragon EVO would be in the blob of white.

"If it continues on that path," Holiday paused, re-reading the destination, "Providence HQ. In half an hour."

A pause for the information to sink in.

"Ready the cannons," Six speaks up first. The soldiers in the room were shaken out of their stupor by his brisk tone, and the sound of the alarm quickly filled the room, "We will _not_ allow it to crash into headquarters."

White had apparently learned his lesson from Van Kleiss piloting the Keep; the moment the rubble was cleared, he'd put in a new warning signal for "Large Object (hopefully not the Keep _again_ , commit to your _job_ everybody) About to Smash into Headquarters, this is _Pretty Bad_ ".

It was... _disconcerting_ , to say the least, to hear his voice fill the hallways of Providence once more.

* * *

Rex could only call it a dragon.

Gold-lined scales mixed with pure white features, it was one of the most beautiful dragons Rex had ever seen. Even better than the ones he saw in anime.

It reminded him of snow - stark white, seemingly unending, rippling as the six pairs of wings shifted on its back. The white eyes with gold flecks looked cold, distant; focused somewhere else in the room and thankfully not at Rex.

Well. The snow comparison held up until heat started rolling off it.

Holes - vents? - lined the beast's body, a few dotted around the neck and the back legs, flaring as it yawned. A maw of impressive (and sharp) teeth opened up.

The wall behind the EVO seemed to waver as warmth and light leaked out of the vents - nothing too hot, nothing too bright, but Rex had fought EVOs for years now.

He knew the warning signs.

This was an unseen EVO type, and Rex didn't want to risk being cooked and eaten just for the shot at a quick cure.

Gesturing wildly when the beast was looking away, Rex tried to signal to Six and Holiday on the other side of the lab; they looked at him with confusion on their faces. Well, Holiday looked at him with confusion, Six was as deadpan as ever.

He thrust his hand towards the exit - we need to leave. The vents flared open again, bringing another wave of heat and light, warmer and brighter than the previous one.

Six and Holiday started inching towards the exit, avoiding the EVO's languid gaze. Rex could feel sweat building on him - between the heat, the pressure, and the fear of injury, he couldn't pinpoint which one was the reason.

Probably all of them, on reflection.

The dragon snapped its maw closed from the yawn and the temperature fell again; Rex startled from the noise. It didn't seem to notice, instead shifting its weight to a presumably more comfortable position. Two pairs of wings stretched out before returning to a closed position, while the third pair ruffled before the neck started drifting downwards.

Was it attempting to rest?

Well -

Holiday and Six were out of the lab now, and the temperature was steadily falling along with the conscious state of the EVO.

It wouldn't hurt to sneak a small cure in, right?

* * *

"I'm _fine_!"

Foreign words clawed out of Rex's mouth, forcing their way through his teeth. It felt like vomit rising up his throat; a disgusted, toxic mixture that needed to be thrown out of his body immediately. Gone, it needed to be gone.

He wanted to remove one of his hands, to clutch at his mouth in surprise or to wipe off the sweat building from the heat, but they refused to budge - his entire body refused to move an inch.

A blue glow, bright as if to rival the light coming out of the vents, overtook his eyes.

"Rex?"

Through the haze and the glass, the blurry form of Holiday stepped forwards with a worried expression.

 _Get back/Go away_ , they thought in unison; the few moments of control Rex had over his body was used to change his expression to one of complete fear, one that he hoped communicated ' _I'm not in control in this situation and you guys_ need _to stay out of this before you get blasted_ '.

Holiday was pulled back by Six; the heat was overwhelming to humans. Six at least could see them both with his sunglasses.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm -" that voice intertwined with his own was so, so familiar, and through the blue and yellow haze of nanites Rex couldn't stop thinking _why are you resisting_ , "I'm free. I'm finally free! _**You can't take this away from me!**_ "

The EVO thrashed under his grip, blasting out another wave of heat as it roared in rage and fought back the impending wave of deactivation Rex was forcing onto it; deep gouges lined the walls of the lab, leaving equipment sparking and alarms blaring.

The wings beat against the tables, throwing them across the room in an unpredictable fashion; Rex took this time to glance at Holiday and Six who -

What were they doing, moving closer to the door?!

One swoop of the tail -

The largest screen tore in half, glass scattering across the lab floor.

One shard slashed through Rex's jacket, drawing blood that hissed as it fell onto the heated room.

The talons clawed uselessly at the tiles, tearing them up in a desperate attempt to reach Rex. It wasn't as if he could break off and use his builds to smack the EVO into oblivion; he was a sitting duck, at the whims to the beast he couldn't release his grip on.

The glass, the alarms, the helplessness -

It all felt so familiar.

Red splotches bloomed across Rex's arms but his screams of pain died in his throat, blocked by another voice.

Another, hysterical, frenzied voice.

White Knight's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to do an Overwatch AU except... Genji and Reinhardt are actually too similar to Six and Knight. Oops. I guess Knight can hang out in the command center and have an omnic double while Six is...still just Genji, I guess.


End file.
